


Last Chances

by CavannaRose



Series: Jeanne Sadler, Agent of HYDRA [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Hydra (Marvel), Post-Battle of Sokovia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-07-16 14:28:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7271926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavannaRose/pseuds/CavannaRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When one head falls, another shall take it's place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The Avengers. Just their name filled Jeanne with the urge to destroy things. What they had done, them and those fools at SHIELD, had ruined everything. Her hopes, dreams, and goals... all dashed in one messy swoop, as shattered as the battle in Sokovia had left the nation. Certainly HYDRA would recover; Cut off one head, and another shall take it's place. Small comfort when your particular cell belonged to the head that was abandoned. Even if she could find a position within the new head, years of scrabbling for respect and rank had been destroyed, scattered to the winds of some third world European country no one cared about.

The Canadian expatriate growled in anger, clenching her fist and slamming it into the nearest wall, shattering the edge of the brick with her more than human strength. The sting of it felt right, and she unconsciously brought her hand to her mouth, sucking on the wound as she brooded. Someone needed to pay for the travesty wrought upon the glorious institution to which she had pledged herself.

A death. Something dramatic. A tide of crimson and suffering to fill the empty expanse now spread before her. Once more she must concoct the right plan to bring her onto HYDRA's radar, and the serpent was always attracted to the scent of blood. That's when she caught sight of something too good to be true out of the corner of her eye. The archer... HawkGuy or something like that, she had never paid much attention to him in the mission briefs. Though he was the least of the Avengers, perhaps the quality of his blood would suffice against the quantity that was a mass murder. If she could lay his head at the new HYDRA, they would have to let her back in.

Jeanne pulled back her hair and ducked under the nearest shop awning, watching the so-called hero saunter fully into view. It was him all right, plain as day. He walked like a man who had no burdens on his shoulders, as if he wasn't one of the criminals that had shattered her world forever. Mentally she inventoried her weapons. BAR, Glock, three knives, throwing daggers and a garrote. She was unlikely to get another opportunity this sweet. The BAR rose up and she sighted down the street at her target. This was as ready as she was going to be. Gently she squeezed the trigger, filling the air with the deafening crack of a rifle shot.

This wasn't quite the way that Clint Barton had expected his life to go. Not at this point anyway. He was considered a superhero by many, although he wasn't sure he understood that himself. He was no hero. He was just a guy who was good at using a weapon that was outdated by most people's standards. Of course Clint made up for it with some wicked arrows in his arsenal. People didn't realize that he came up with his own arrows. Put them together on his own. In fact Clinton Francis Barton was much smarter than people gave him credit for and he was okay with that. He was underestimated at every turn but that made his life interesting.

At the moment the archer was happy to be home again. New York City was home for him, familiar as the feel of a bow in his hands. It always would be home. Bustling city streets. Interesting little niches that the tourists ignored. There was never a dull moment. Of course that didn't mean that Clint was expecting to be /shot at/ while walking back from stopping to pick up a few supplies. He had been preparing to turn the corner when he heard the shot ring out. The sound of it was unmistakable - at least to his ears - but it didn't mean that he had the time to react.

Moving slightly, Clint had been able to adjust where he was hit at the very least but the searing pain in his shoulder let him know that the bullet had made contact. His jaw clenched against his natural reaction to cry out and instinctively he reached for his bow. Which, of course, wasn't there. "Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit!" The string of curses were both from his lack of weapon at the moment and the pain. He glanced at his shoulder and the hole in his leather jacket. "Damn it. I just got this jacket too."

Jeanne shouldered the BAR with a grim smile. A lucky shot, for sure. Winging the damn bird was better than she expected to achieve on the first attempt. He was so much slower than his teammates. So much more... human. Easy prey, as it were. In a smooth motion the rifle was safetied and swung over her back, the Glock in her hand, black gun held against black jacket so only someone really looking would notice. She blended with the fleeing crowd, moving towards the injured hero, using the flow of humanity to drive her, so that it wasn't quite clear she was aiming for the archer.

She came out of the crowd a few feet from the swearing Avenger, face calm. Slowly, wanting him to know what was happening now that he was in her sights, she raised the Glock 17, her face a blank. Rapidfire she squeezed the trigger, three, four, five times, terrifying the civilians so that those too stupid to scatter after the initial attack ran for cover. She snapped the Glock back into it's holster, drawing both her knives. "Come on birdie, let's dance."


	2. Chapter 2

Great.

This was just what Clint didn't want to deal with right now. He didn't have time for a fight in the middle of the sidewalk in a neighborhood like this. Too many people. Too many chances for something to go wrong. That was what Clint Barton wanted to avoid. But clearly that wasn't going to happen. She wasn't going to just let him slide on this and he had no idea why that was. Unarmed, Clint put up his fists, taking his best fighting stance.

"Y'know, if I did something to piss you off, I'm not sure what it was. Did I take the last cup of coffee? Is that what this is about?" Yeah, make jokes in the middle of a fight. It was a great idea but it was the best one that Clint had at the moment. It was only going to make this worse on him. He could tell that already but he couldn't seem to stop himself either. The words just came out of his mouth without him trying. "I mean, seems that you know me but I'm at a loss. I don't like to kick the ass of someone without knowing their name at least."

"I heard you were the funny one, what a disappointment to find it to be an untruth." Jeanne sneered, stepping forward to slash at the man's midsection, not really fighting yet. She was still testing him, timing his reflexes. Perhaps she was more like a cat playing with a mouse at this point, but the archer was without a weapon, and since all reports had him filed as simply human, she was fairly certain this altercation could only end one way; with him caught and her finally rising through the ranks as she deserved. She'd worked so blasted hard for it, she couldn't let a setback like the demolition of her head to take that away.

Idly she stepped forward, using that speed her mother had passed down to her for another set of slashes, midsection, left shoulder, then down low towards the back of the right knee. "You are outarmed, little bird. Outmatched in almost every way. You could always give in, come with me quietly, but personally I'd rather we play a bit first. Call it an unhealthy obsession with sharp objects, my supervisor did." She chuckled, and it wasn't a pleasant sound. She was a pretty woman, looked like someone who should be starting a family, with the kind of face that stayed innocent, looked full of hope. It often served to unsettle her opponents. 

"Hail HYDRA."


End file.
